1813
by babi-gurl-chels
Summary: They'" "The Mothers. It’s hunting season, Malfoy, and I plan to witness every moment of it.” London, 1813.


London 1813

Ginevra Weasley arrived in the dining room just past ten in the morning. Her mother was already seated, and eagerly reading the latest gossip column. The furniture in the room, and indeed the whole house, was far from perfect. Slightly worn and well-used, but the best they could afford. They were only renting the house in London for a few months anyhow.

"Goodness! Mr Blackwright danced with Ms Elizabeth Basset _four times_ at last night's Knockfield ball. Can you believe it? I never dreamt she'd make such a catch." Ginny inserted a 'hmm' here and there, absentmindedly picking up a piece of toast, while her mother exclaimed over others exploits. "Not that she isn't a fine gel, but she hasn't much in the way of looks. Still, I imagine they'll be married in a month's time."

Ginny inserted another noncommittal comment here, for the sake of her mother. The older Weasley shot her an accusing look.

"Ginevra Weasley, are you listening to me? You could have tried after Mr Blackwright, you know."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Mum…"

"Now Ginny dearest, you know we haven't much in the way of funds and that means we'll only be able to fund one, possibly two, seasons for you. It's because of this you must make finding a husband you're top priority."

"It's not like I haven't, mum. Goodness knows you've dragged me to every possible ball or musicale possible for the past week." Ginevra Weasley grumbled. It was common knowledge that she absolutely adored her mother, but when Molina Weasley began to preach about marriage or finding a husband, it was nearly impossible to dissuade her from it. Unfortunately, since her sixteenth birthday, Ginny had constantly exposed to both.

All of society knew the Weasley's were constantly low on funds, but because of their lineage and bloodlines, Ginny was still due a London season as was her right. And the whole goal of a London season was for ambitious mothers to parade their young, available daughters under the noses the most eligible and wealthy men, with the hopes of wedding bells ringing. It was rather absurd to watch, and even worse to be expected to participate.

"—after all, he's such a nice young man, and such good friends with your brother it's like he's family already! Besides…"

"Mother, are you on about Harry Potter _again_?!"

Her mother sniffed. "Well, he is eligible and you'd make him a finer wife then any of those other gels flocking after him, surely he'd see that."

Ginny allowed herself a sign and continued to slather her toast in jam.

"Well, what about that Lord Malfoy? He certainly is handsome."

Ginny put down her butter knife and gave her mother a stern look. "Surely you're joking."

Lord Draco Malfoy, Duke of Hastings, was indeed handsome. And wealthy. And he certainly had been known to be charming once or twice, but never to her. Apparently her brother and Malfoy had never gotten along while they went to university together, and he had carried that animosity towards her, simply due to her relation.

Oh, he was never outright rude; simply he never went out of his way to be pleasant. Of course it was only one week into the season, and it was his first time consistently attending. The ambitious mothers were beside themselves with glee at having such an eligible and well off man at their fingertips, and a duke no less! They were certain he must be looking for a wife, for what else would he being doing here?

They were probably right, though Ginny held no illusions that she might be that wife. She was probably the only eligible girl in London, besides Poppy Wingster that he hadn't danced with.

Across the table, her mother sighed. "Yes, I suppose I must be joking. Oh well, we'll find you a splendid husband Ginny, don't you worry!"

_Lord help us all._

OoOoOoO

Across London, that very moment…

"I must say, Malfoy, I'm damned glad you've decided to come to London." Blaise Zambini smiled slyly at the man slouching casually and somehow elegantly, in his seat. They were already seated for the horse race they had agreed to attend today, and both had betted on.

Draco Malfoy shrugged. "Am I proving entertaining to you by being here?" He drawled.

"Well, perhaps that too. But what I really appreciate you being higher then myself in the pecking order. In fact, would you rather I start calling you Hastings now that you've inherited?"

Draco shot an angry glare at his best friend. "The death of that bitter old man does not change who I am." At his friends shocked face, he took a few deep breaths and counted to ten. "How does my position in life make yours more comfortable?"

"Now that you're here, they'll ignore a man of little importance like me, a mere viscount, and go for you, a duke, instead!" Blaise, luckily was unfazed by his friends outburst.

Draco looked at his friend, puzzled. "'They?' Who's 'they?'"

"The Mothers."

Draco let out a laugh, and then he caught the completely serious look on his best friends face. "Good God," he laughed, "you're serious!"

"Believe me, you'll see for yourself."

"I've been in London a whole week now and have come away remarkably unscathed, Zambini. Besides, we both know you're some 'mere viscount.'"

"But now they all know you're here and plan to stay! It's hunting season, Malfoy, and I plan to witness every moment of it."

"I'm only here to take my place in society, as is my right. I'm not looking for a wife."

"You may not be looking, but that doesn't mean they won't be thrown at you from every angle."

Draco sent his friend a dubious look, questioning his sanity, before leaning forward to watch as the race began.

A/N: Got bored of reading the same old thing, and I've decided to try something new. Review if you'd like to read more (pretty please?) because I'm not sure how this will be received. If there's a next chapter, we'll definitely see our two favorite characters meet for the first time. Sparks will fly!:]


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